The Tumult of Time
by cmiley freaky
Summary: After 21 years, it looks like one of the kids have no intention to keep "all was well" still well - what'll happen when Muggles start appearing everywhere, green cloaked men declare themselves the NEW Ministry? Can a love-struck Muggle save them all? R
1. The Wait of Hope

**Title: There was once - Family.**

**Disclaimer: I really, really, REALLY wish that it is not true, that I DID own it, so that I'd get, like, a million and zillion fans who'd be ready to fall at my feet and tell me LOADS of good things and - ok, FINE. I don't own it. Happy? **

**A/N: Er - my first EVER fan-fiction (yay!), and so constructive criticisms would be greatly appreciated.**

**Prologue**

A big, brown pair of eyes followed the speck of white as it battled against the furious wind of winter. Red brows knitted together, her smooth forehead now looked too much of a ... well, it didn't look like Ginny's forehead any more.

Hermione sighed.

"I know," said Ginny curtly, "I just, well, _wish_, that she would hurry up -"

"Ginny, whatever _she_ is, it's a mile away. I'm not even sure that it _is_ Hedwig...it could be any big, white thing which you can see right now. And personally, I don't think that even James would be so stupid to send Hedwig in this snowstorm."

Ginny opened her mouth, her brain rushing through sentences which would make a proper retort - _it _is _Hedwig, I know it - nah, too stubborn - how about - nah - _

"Ginny."

Avoiding her eyes, the former strained hers across the snow grazed sky once more, her heart in her ears as she fought to keep the hope alive, fought to believe that -

The door banged open.

Through the chilling gusts, which thundered in and made their long manes of hair whip cruelly against their faces, Hermione and Ginny gasped as they stared at the tall, lanky figure of -

"_Ron!"_

**A/N: I swear to have this story more intriguing than this zero level of intriguing-ness ****and the chapters will get longer and more things will happen instead of just people gazing at owls and figures bursting through doorways...only if you want me to! So please, REVIEW!! :D**


	2. The Letter

**Title: The Letter**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it... (sigh)**

**A/N: Sorry (ha! – to who??) it took SUCH a long time, but hey, it WAS my birthday, you know...and I DO have homework and all...and I've been lazy a lot these days...munching my way through popcorns and movies and books and sleeping...so, I really hope you guys enjoy this, (guys??) and c'mon – I know its lame, but I promise that it'll get way better once I get over my nervousness at writing something which all the readers of the whole world can choose to read and then shake their heads sadly or worse...ok I'm done.**

Mum,

It's horrible here. Madam Swan won't let anyone into the hospital wing, although we've heard that most of the wounded have been transferred to St. Mungo's.

Mum, I'm scared – we all are. James refuses to send Hedwig – the weather's frightening over here – but if you get this, that means Albus and I have smuggled her out of the castle – James won't be pleased.

Uncle Ron was here

_Mum, how are you? How's Dad? Hope you're fine, and Lily's exaggerating – everything's fine here_

As I was saying – Uncle Ron was here and he was all weird. Mum – what IS happening at the Ministry? James is being really annoying – he stopped our newspaper deliveries, which I don't know how,

_Dad, have you been to the Leaky Cauldron? I heard – Hugo told us – they've carried off Tom _

Rose made something for Auntie H – it's with Uncle Ron. I'm worried about Hagrid – he didn't look good when they carried him into the hospital wing

_Who's the new Minister, Dad? No ones telling us anything – James is still being an arrogant toad _

Obnoxious fourth year

_And Uncle said that all the Muggles were stupefied in the station – how is that even possible? Weird people in green robes came in today_

They call themselves the "authority"

_Mum, they took James to Neville's office _

Oh, I do hope they've told him off – and

_I got caught last night – I wonder how Old Filch manages these days? _

You should have seen him – there he was, brandishing his cane at Albus, yelling "Bloody third years"

_"Just like his troublesome father"_

Albus got all happy at the last one

_Mum, Lily's into heaps of trouble already – she's landed herself into detention with McGonagall **and** Neville _

Detention with Neville was a blast

_All the teachers are disappointed at this kind of perkiness shown by a first year – but Old Slughorn's simply delighted_

He thinks that I've inherited your genes, Mum!

_James is going to wake up any minute – and then he's going to murder us if he knew what we're up to_

We love you Mum!! And give my love to Daddy

_I hope Uncle R makes it – weather looks scary_

He said Apparition has been put on hold – Mum, do you realize how EASILY he can get lost?

Love you Mum, Dad, Auntie H, and Luna, if she's there...

Lily, Albus.

P.S: Write to us, and return Hedwig as soon as you can!!

**A/N: Hope you like this!!**


	3. It all starts here

**Title: It all starts here...**

**Disclaimer:**

**A/N: Gah! I'm SO freakin' NERVOUS!! - because, you see, this is where my plot is revealed (well, most of it, anyways) so please tell me (TELL ME!!) whether you like it or not...**

Minerva McGonagall was not pleased.

She looked down at the boy in front of her. He looked so much alike...yet – so different. She frowned, disliking her ability of _failing_ to grasp what was on his mind.

"Mr. Potter," she repeated, sternness echoing every syllable – "I will not ask again – what do you do in the Forest every Tuesday night?"

_Crap. They know._

James looked up at his old Headmistress through his dark waves, quickly concealing his panic in a mask of innocence.

She wasn't fooled.

The old Headmistress had seen too much of that face in her life. Rather than cooling her down, as was intended, it brought back a parade of painful memories – It has indeed been many years, but two faces of her students swam in front of her eyes –_ no, she couldn't be distracted – the matter was too serious – distraction cannot be afforded –_

She glared at the hazel eyes of James Potter.

_At least his father did wrong things for a good cause – _

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp intake of breath:

"I'm sorry Professor," he said, "but I can't tell you."

"Mr. Potter – "

"I haven't done _anything _wrong –"

"Mr. Potter! You are old _enough _to understand that your regular disappearances on Tuesday nights aren't only the reasons why I've called you here – how are you linked to the appearances of those 25 Muggles in Hogsmeade?"

"Professor, I didn't -"

"It was a Wednesday morning! In addition, Swayer has told me that you were _never_ there in your dorm that Tuesday night!"

"Professor, I – no –"

"What did the new Department of Magical Law Enforcement want with you?"

"Nothing! They - er -"

"What did they tell you? Where is Shacklebolt?"

"I don't -"

"Enough."

Professor McGonagall whipped around. James leaned sideways behind her in his seat, only to find his eyes locked on a pair of piercing blue ones, twinkling from behind half moon spectacles in an old withered face, which smiled upon him from a golden framed portrait above the Head's chair.

"But – _Albus -_ !" cried McGonagall, clearly displeased.

James scrambled up from his chair and stood, debating the thought of curtsying or saying something respectable – which, by the way, was _very_ hard –

"Sit down, dear boy."

He sat.

Dumbledore glared at McGonagall, until she sat down too, exasperated. Then he beamed at James, and started to speak:

"Mr. James Potter – finally, a Potter in this office! How long has it been, Minerva? 20? 21 years?" he paused for a long moment, lost in thought, a smile lingering on his elderly face. James felt heat flush his cheeks as he lowered his eyes – never before had he wished that his father were a _little _bit inconspicuous...

McGonagall coughed pointedly – then coughed some more, until the ex-headmaster looked up innocently from his thoughts, then chuckled.

"Ah, done it again now, have I?" He grinned at James, who bit back a smile, and then continued:

"Now, where were we? Oh, yes. Harry – excuse me – James, my dear boy, you are at your fourth year, are you not?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well then you should very well know what your father was up to when he was in _his_ fourth year! Fighting off dragons, gambling with merpeople, dancing with charming young ladies, winning the Triwizard Tournament – the works. You _do _know it all, I presume?"

"Not the details, sir."

The old man laughed.

"Well, I _do_ suppose that young Miss Weasley - excuse me again – your mother was never the boastful type, and neither was your father. Now your Uncle Ronald..." he let the sentence trail off, his eyebrows raised, the corner of his lips twitching upward – James suppressed the urge to smirk – he found that he quite liked the old ex-headmaster...too bad he was –

_Concentrate James! You do not want to end up like your father, do you? Always praised for the wrong things, mixing with the wrong kind - _

No, they weren't wrong –

_YOU CANNOT LET OTHERS MANIPULATE YOU! STICK TO YOUR GOAL! _

I should never have listened to you –

_THE WIZARDING WORLD WILL BE SUPPRESSED NO LONGER! YOU WILL BRING US TO LIGHT!_

No, I –

_Conquer your fear, James; you will see that eventually, everyone will realize that it is indeed a blessing you will have granted. Do not pay any attention to these old fools – they don't care about you, no one does – stick to your goal, boy: bring us out of hiding, expose our power to them all –_

"James?" asked a concerned Dumbledore, while Professor McGonagall shook his arm in an iron-steel grip, and there was also a sharp pain in his mouth - "Are you all right? Minerva, go fetch Madam Swan –"

"I'm fine!" gasped James, sweat faced and red, lips bloody from where he'd bitten. He wrenched himself free from the steely grasp of McGonagall, and with his heart pounding rather loudly, ran from the circular, airy office of golden instruments and a large, empty cage strangled with cobwebs and leaving behind a very confused McGonagall and a very worried Dumbledore.

**A/N: Review, review, review!!**


	4. The Dream

**Title: The Dream**

**Disclaimer: Own the plot, lame as it is...don't own anything else, though...oh! I DO own Esme Francis – Yay!! **

**A/N: I'd like to thank Crazy-HarryPotter-Nerd** **and slytheringirl 135 for all their support and reviews. And guys, don't worry, I _think _u'll find this chapter _very, _well, see it for yourself! And yay!! Enter – Esme! - At LAST... (I just LOVE the name Esme!!)**

Winter was not doing a very good job.

Inside the boys' dormitory, the air was damp and hot around James as he tossed in his four-poster bed, strangled in the covers. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and into his tear-stained pillow, on which his thick dark locks mashed onto messily.

He was having a bad dream. A very _vivid _bad dream... _was_ it a dream?

"_Don't be silly, boy," the man said, "there's no such thing as magic."_

"_Yes, there is!" he was persistent, he was adamant, he was succeeding – "I'll show you – here, look -" and he shoved the stolen prophecy under the man's nose –_

_- Flashes of colours - aagh - too bright - _another toss -

_It was dark. Everything was black. James looked up at the tall shadow of the man._

"_What do you want me to do?" asked James fearfully._

"_Go to the Forbidden Forest after midnight," said the man, "My people will meet you at the acromantulas's den."_

"_The acro – what?" _

"_Oh, you silly, ignorant little boy," sneered the man, "here, let me __**show **__you –"_

_And with that, he plunged his hand into his robes and brought out a thin, sealed flask, which glimmered in the darkness. _

"_There is a Pensieve in the Head's office. It's up to you to decide exactly how and when you want to use it without anyone's awareness." He paused, and then smirked, "And now wouldn't be a bad time."_

_Then, with a swish of his cloak, he was gone._

_- A swirl of darkness - and then he was falling, falling -_

_He was running, trying to catch up with two gigantic spiders, which were somehow flying across the forest floor, each carrying a human in its front legs. He saw trees fly by as he ran, and some were VERY familiar – he knew how to go to the acromantulas's den –_

- So _hot_ – can't breathe – toss –

"_Kill them," clicked the monstrously ugly great spider fretfully. "I was sleeping..."_

"_We're friends of Hagrid's," shouted one of the boys, and James heard his own voice, as though a little deepened, and with a jolt, realized that it was his father – he knew that anyways – but he realized that it was his father and his uncle Ronald who had chosen to put themselves at such a perilous risk – _

_Another flash of blinding white – _another toss –

"_He was brave!" bawled James._

"_NO, he was NOT," snarled Luke. "For his interference with EVERYTHING, the Dark Lord has been defeated. The Dark Lord, who knew – who wanted us to be known for our superiority, our power, above ALL those filthy Muggles with their stupid nuclear weapons -"_

Danny Swayer yawned. And Lord, it was_ hot _in there!

He pushed himself off his bed, trudged along the row of beds, ignored a moan from a wildly thrashing Potter and threw open the large windows. Almost immediately, gusts of cold wind filled the room. Yawning in the soothing cold comfort, he walked back to his bed and flopped down in its covers, already asleep.

Five beds away, the dream continued, although much of its vividness was reduced by the sudden cool.

_The wind tossed the flames higher, and now they were towering over the house. The villagers watched and gasped as the fire cackled – no, cracked and spit when it hungrily devoured the threadbare roof. Beside James's petrified body, a woman screamed:_

"_**ESME-EEE!!"**_

_Tearing his eyes away from the dancing wild flames, he focused them upon the woman, who now was heaped on the ground, her breast heaving with sobs, arms of a thin, bald man wrapped around her._

"_Patrick," she choked out, "Patrick, __**save **__her, Patrick no – she – __**Esme **__– __**my **__Esme, my darling – no – save her – Patrick – she – die – fire – my darling Esme, no, Patrick..."_

_The man Patrick looked around helplessly, his eyes wide, sad and fearful. James saw him squinting his red eyes up at the oranges of his demolished house, and then look away, his face screwed up, his arms wounding tighter around the wailing woman, pressing her to his thin chest. At the same time, an ear-splitting scream full of despair and fear tore through the smoky sky._

_James did not think, did not hesitate. All he knew was that somewhere in the depths of the fire, the girl still lived –_

"_AGUAMENTI!"_

The small room was _very_ cold. Shivering, the sleeping boys pulled the warm covers up to their chins, and once more, succumbed into their comfortable slumbers – and for some, dreams began from where they left off.

_The girl was about his age, and very, __**very **__pretty, even though her whole body was blackened and charred. Her hair was singed and frizzy in the heat, but James could see that it was a lovely shade of blonde, skin a rosy-white texture. She had big, wide grey eyes, underneath a fringe of almost invisible eyelashes, and plump cheeks with a dimple on her chin. As James's eyes travelled further down her body, he couldn't help but notice the graceful arch of her long neck, and below that – his eyes widening – heart pounding –_

_She was looking at him now. Her enormous grey eyes bored into his hazel ones, and James saw her pink, full lips turn up at the corners, parting slightly, exposing a straight set of small, white teeth, and then he realized that she was smiling at him, a smile which gushed gratitude and – was there more to it? – and he tried to return the smile but all he could manage was to make his heart pound louder and much faster and his breathing was stopping, and oh God – _

_People were yelling now. Quite shaken from his daze, James looked around him – angry villagers were clutching a cross at their breasts and chanting something and casting fearful glances at his wand while making a tight circle around him – James looked back at Esme – but she was gone – no, she was gone! _

- Shivering – tossing – rubbing feet to generate warmth -

_And now he stood, afraid, gripping his only source of protection, his mind already rushing through spells and curses that could aid him but right then, he heard a loud crack - _

- too cold -

_-and someone was beside him and holding his arm and then there was another crack and he couldn't breathe, no, stop, he was gasping for air – his lungs – and then he could breathe again and he felt a cold breeze greet him and he looked around and he wasn't in the burning village anymore, and he beamed at his saviour and saw it was Luke's grim face which smiled happily upon his, and he realized with growing dread that he had accomplished his first task of exposure and he couldn't beam anymore but it was too cold and so cold - _

Oh, it was freezing cold now. Little white flakes littered the floors and the beds and upon the shivering boys, who aroused themselves and came to their senses and shut the windows, but by then the sun was up and seeing no reason to go asleep again, they resigned to laze about and dress for the new day.

And James couldn't wait to see Esme again.

**A/N: I really, REALLY hope you guys like it-Cuz I loved to write it!!**


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